Summer Evening
by gnbrules
Summary: When all is said and done, there's always, always a happy ending. Shules and Lassie/Jules friendship primarily, spoilers for the final season and finale.


**Summer Evening**

**Summary: When all is said and done, there's always, always a happy ending. Shules and Lassie/Jules friendship primarily, spoilers for the final season and finale.**

**A/N: I was sad to see Psych go, but so glad it went out right – sweet and true to the characters we've loved. I'm grateful to the show and fandom that's meant so much. This isn't a goodbye (rewatches and the possibilities the finale gave us are likely to be as much an inspiration to write more Psych fic as anything), but this is my love letter to Psych and especially to the friendships and relationships that made it so awesome in the first place.**

A pretty white sundress hiding a pudgy baby belly, little hands happily tossing rose petals out of a small basket, and her sparkling eyes filled with delight at the mess. Part of the appeal for her, he knows, is thinking she's getting away with it. He thanks God that she's still not old enough to know what a pushover he truly is for her, and that Marlowe helps him resist the temptation to spoil her rotten. But he also loves her enough to raise her right, so it's only really a temptation in theory. There were many years there where he felt alone, where he had no one to love or to love him in return. Now, every day with his girls, he knows that the missing love is being repaid in full, and with interest. It's more happiness and love than anyone, especially him, could possibly deserve, but he'll only ever be grateful for it.

It's exactly the nice summer evening O'Hara had hoped for, and he's so glad that fate allowed it for her special day. When O'Hara had suggested her idea for a certain role in the wedding, he'd been touched, though he'd pointed out the glaring flaw. "O'Hara, she can't even walk yet," he had said, and she had just smiled and said she had a plan for that, too.

So it is that Carlton Lassiter is walking – well, carrying – his daughter down the aisle, her flower girl dress and hair rustling with the light ocean breeze. Spencer and O'Hara had decided to get married on a Santa Barbara beach. Though they made a new home in San Francisco, they wanted to come back to where they met, their roots. Lassiter couldn't help but agree it felt appropriate.

Lassiter makes his way slowly down the aisle, Lilly settled on the crook of his arm, giggles emanating with every falling rose petal and practically howling with amusement when her father joins the fun, tossing a large handful into the air. The breeze catches one in particular and it settles in her hair. He chuckles as her eyes roll up and cross to try and look at it, and he gently smoothes it out and gives it to her. Tiny hand closing on it like a precious gift – what she doesn't know yet, but which he'll tell her again and again long after she's old enough to comprehend the words, is that _she is his precious gift. _His baby girl.

They reach the altar and he goes to stand beside Guster, the only other groomsmen. As the rest of the eyes are drawn onto the remainder of the wedding party coming forward, Lassiter spares a moment to whisper to his daughter. "Someday, Lilly, I'm going to walk you down the aisle again. Just make sure that's not for a very, very, very long time." He kisses her head and she nestles it in against his chest – she's tired now, and he hopes she falls asleep without the cranky crying that usually comes whenever she's missed her nap.

Just as Lilly curls in for sleep against him, Spencer catches his eye and gives him an unusually sincere and nervous grin. Lassiter nods. It's his blessing.

Then O'Hara is making her way towards Spencer on her father's arm, drawing all the eyes as she goes and looking every bit as happy as Lassiter's ever seen her. It's strange, almost, the way he feels right now. She's not his daughter, not his sister, but she's family in every way that matters. It feels like giving her away and letting her go and just being happy she's happy. Because he knows with certainty he wouldn't have the things he has now without her friendship – he was stagnating and cynical before he met her, and she was the one to push her way through it all. She helped him change into the man he needed to be, to let go of the past and find new love and have his beautiful, beautiful daughter.

For that and a million other things, Juliet O'Hara deserves this happiness, and so, so much more.

So he's a little annoyed when Guster's crying next to him becomes distracting. "For God sake's, pull it together, Guster," he hisses.

"Sympathetic crier," is all Gus whimpers in response, though how that's relevant Lassiter isn't really sure.

In any case, the ceremony passes without any more incident than that, and the reception begins.

The first dance is not for him, nor the second, as she follows the tradition of dancing with her father and new husband before anyone else. The third dance is his though, and he only grumbles slightly in protest before giving in. He hands a sleeping Lilly to Marlowe, who smiles at him. He thinks she looks just as beautiful as the day he married her. No, more so, with their baby girl in her arms.

O'Hara is grinning at him as he puts his hands awkwardly at her waist, like it's still one of the biggest kicks she can get, when he's uncomfortable. She's in her element though, putting her hands casually to his shoulders and starting the slow revolve until he settles into it. "Shawn told me what you said to him before the ceremony, Carlton. I thought it was sweet."

He quirks an eyebrow at her. "I tell your husband I'll shoot him if he ever hurts you, and you think it's sweet? Perhaps you don't like him as much as you think, O'Hara."

"It's Spencer now," she shoots back, and he feigns a dramatic cringe.

"Yeah, I'm not going to call you that. Ever."

She laughs. "Fair enough."

They settle into a comfortable silence, revolving to the music. Marlowe helps Lilly wave to them as they turn on the spot, and Lassiter can't help but smile. "You have to visit more," he says suddenly. "Lilly's got to get to know her Auntie Juliet."

"Visiting's a two-way street, Partner," she says, poking him in the chest.

Partners, still. Not ex-partners, never ex. They're both still partners in their mind.

"Alright, we'll _both _try," he concedes, and they dance for just awhile longer, until Shawn comes bouncing along with what seems like a literal spring in his step.

"Hey, hey Lassie! Aren't you done yet? Get your own wife!"

It's then that Lassiter notices that the song has indeed ended. He lets go of O'Hara and she too withdraws from him. "I do have my own wife," Lassiter tells him with a glare, and Spencer feigns surprise.

"Since when?"

Lassiter rolls his eyes, and O'Hara is grinning again as she slips her arms around Spencer's neck. Lassiter gives her a nod and a smile, then leaves her to enjoy the next dance with her _husband_.

Husbands and wives and daughters. It's really remarkable, he thinks, how far they've come.

He heads back to join Marlowe and Lilly, kisses them each – Lilly on the still-sleeping head and Marlowe on the lips. She smiles at him softly. "Hey hon, whenever you're ready, we should probably get Lilly home to bed. No rush though," she adds quickly. It's clear she knows just how much being here means to him.

He's glad she understands. "Just another hour, maybe," he promises. He knows he's probably pushing it, given Lilly's tendency to wake up and scream bloody murder, but Carlton just can't help it. He'll be damned if he can't squeeze every last second out of spending this evening together with his family and friends.


End file.
